


My Bitch

by WincestSounds (Cammerel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Folsom Prison Blues, Graveyard Sex, Incest, M/M, Prison Sex, RP, Straight Winchesters, Top!Sam, Wincest - Freeform, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 09:52:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/WincestSounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam acts out to stop his brother from becoming some other inmate’s prison bitch, the outcome isn’t quite what he was expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Folsom Prison Blues, you’ve all seen this before, where Dean becomes Sam’s bitch in prison or whatever. Only this isn’t a short.

Dean knew he fit into the prison like he’d been raised up in it - that might’ve been partially true, but he liked to think he’d had it worse. It wasn’t a badge he wore with pride, but he couldn’t help being just a slight bit confident, knowing he could handle himself. John had raised them for situations like this, and Dean could take on the best of them one on one, numbers were where he got a bit fuzzy.

So when the guy in the corner was eying his brother in a way that didn’t sit well with Dean, he let the guy know. He connected the tip of his gay ass prison slipper with the man’s sternum and hadn’t expected to hear any more of it. But goddamn,  _he was so wrong._

Now, they were interested in  **him** , and Dean wasn’t often a fan of being objectified. His brother was one thing, and one guy was  **one thing**. But he saw the looks he was getting and it made him nervous. Though, it didn’t stop him from licking his spoons any slower.

It was just natural for Dean to tease and be a sarcastic, cocky asshole. The problem was, these guys didn’t like the word ‘no’. It was most likely a foreign language to them.

“I don’t know how many of ‘em got in here for touchin’ little boys,” Dean had said nervously as him and his brother undressed, “But I’m not little.”

Sam snorted as he set his clean orange jumpsuit aside for when they were done, talking in a hushed whisper as they walked into the shower room - one big open space full of creeps that were eying Dean like candy, “Relatively speaking, you are kind of little. Compared to most in here, anyway.”

One of the larger, scarier looking inmates catcalled at the older Winchester as Sam reached out and turned his shower on, trying his hardest not to glare at them. As long as the inmates didn’t physically start something with them, then it was best not to give them a reason to.

“I know it probably physically pains you to not be a smart ass,” Sam side glanced at Dean, expression worried, “But I think we’d be better off if you bite your tongue until we’re done, these guys are just begging to be provoked, don’t even look at them.”

Dean nodded, brows knit together in annoyance, Sam was right - even if he wasn’t going to admit it aloud. The last thing he wanted was to bring one of these guys around. Though, even if they tried, he’d fucking hammer them a new one.  _Bring it_. He dared them.

He gave his brother a look before grabbing his soap up and scrubbing himself down, running a wet line of suds over his stomach and starting on his arms as he swallowed. He wasn’t a fucking moron, he could hear the padding of feet, practically feel the guy move in behind him. Dean licked his lips nervously as he felt the hand settle on his waist.

He turned, elbow aimed to nail the fucker when the guy caught his arm and shoved him back, slamming him against the wall and holding him there. Though the man wasn’t really big, he was strong, and Dean’s airway was suddenly blocked as he struggled, naked body slipping against the guy’s skin. Worst fucking place to fight someone. Worst fucking time.

The brief sound of skin smacking startled Sam as he was just getting ready to start on his hair, he stumbled a little and felt his blood boil when he took in the sight - Dean struggling against one of the inmates. There were pointed looks directed towards Sam from all around the shower room, other inmates waiting for him to react so they could jump in. He wouldn’t give them the chance, though.

Unlike Dean, Sam usually did a pretty good job holding himself together and could think on his feet - which is what he was doing as he advanced on the guy starting shit with Dean, his hands balled into fists by his side as he growled through his teeth, “How about you leave him the fuck alone and I won’t dislocate your jaw.”

Dean lifted his chin, fighting for air as his face turned red. His cock was pressed against the guy’s hairy belly and it practically made his stomach roll. He didn’t let up though, even when Sam came to his defense, but the guy stopped and turned to look at his brother.

He smirked, raising his wildly frayed brows, thick arms flexing in challenge, “No one else has claimed him, he’s open for the taking.”

“Taking?” Dean rasped, glaring through tear-blurred eyes as his face started turning purple instead.

The guy let up, but only a bit, just enough for Dean to take in a gasping breath of air, “You’re pretty, and I don’t see your sweet little lips around no one else’s dick.”

Sam squared his shoulders and straightened his back, more or less showing the asshole that he wasn’t afraid. He’d thought of a way to hopefully get him to back off, chances were that Dean would audibly protest and blow the whole cover. As it was, he needed to try something because Dean looked like he was just this side of conscious.

“He’s not open for the taking,” Sam started, scowling angrily at the inmate and shooting Dean a quick glance that said ‘please just go with this’, “He’s mine,” The younger Winchester swallowed, “ _He’s my bitch_ , so you need to back the hell off.”

Dean practically sighed in relief as his feet touched the floor again and the guy nodded slowly, staring at the both of them. He coughed, all but spluttering as he looked around nervously at the rest of the room, their rapt attention settled on Dean and Sam.

The man crossed his arms and looked at them, “Right,  _right_ ,” He said slowly, then scratched his beard. He obviously didn’t believe them, and who would? Eyes had been on the two of them since they got in, and Dean and Sam - for obvious reasons - hadn’t even been slightly sexual towards one another, “ _Prove it_.”

Dean felt his stomach bottom out and looked at Sam with widening eyes.

Sam tried to keep his expression calm even though he was internally freaking the fuck out, he hadn’t anticipated them wanting proof and now they were stuck. And in order to get these men to back off, they’d have to prove it even if they didn’t want to - not that Sam  **didn’t**  want to…  _per se_. The decision would be left up to Dean and if he’d rather be some big, hairy inmate’s bitch, or if he’d bite the bullet and make it look like he was Sam’s.

The younger Winchester moved forward, apologetic gaze directed at Dean as he crossed his arms, “You heard the man, show them who you belong to.”

Dean’s eyebrows narrowed for a second, looking at the guy watching them smugly before he reached out, taking Sam’s hips in his hands and keeping his brother’s gaze as he knelt slowly to one knee and then both as he started pressing wet kisses along Sam’s stomach, down the thick, pronounced veins leading to his cock.

His own lurched eagerly as he took the swelling member between his lips, one hand holding it’s base. He actually almost threw up, for a moment, the taste was somewhat startling, but he kept his stomach in check as he drew his mouth down along the length.

He didn’t miss the amused sounds from the other inmates, the laugh of the man still watching them, but Dean kept his murderous eyes on his brother’s.

No matter how much Sam tried not to enjoy it, there was no way around ignoring a blowjob. And getting hard - regardless of how uncomfortable it made Dean - was practically inevitable. Sam kept his arms crossed, though, as he looked down at Dean and mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ silently. It was either this or being gang banged by a group of rather unpleasant looking men, and this - despite how scarring it may be for the older Winchester - seemed like the best and less violent option.

Hopefully the inmates got all the proof they needed so they’d back off. Sam didn’t want Dean to have to finish him, having to prove it was one thing, but coming down your brother’s throat was something else entirely.

Dean slowed and pulled away finally, licking his lips and standing as he tried to ignore his own, half-hardened cock as he looked at the man, somewhat breathless, “That enough for you?”

Goddamn, he wasn’t going to look at his brother right for a while. Despite having had to do it outside of his own terms, it wasn’t as weird as some of the things they’d done in their field of work. Though, he hadn’t really been anticipating it.

The inmate chuckled and backed away, looking more pointedly at Sam, “My bad, but maybe you should mark your bitch up a little bit, ‘cause that sweet ass looks virgin.”

“It’s really none of your concern, now is it?” Sam instinctively moved to shield Dean with his body, somewhat thankful that the plan worked.

The other man just smirked and put his hands up in defeat as he retreated to his side of the shower.

At this point Sam felt a little nervous because he knew he’d have to talk to Dean, and the older Winchester’s fury would no doubt be unleashed on him. It was to be expected and honestly, he was even a little ashamed of himself for not thinking of something else.

Sam turned and looked at Dean, eyes sorrowful and pleading, “Dude, I am so sorry.”

Dean glared at his brother, raising his brows, “Next time we do somethin’ like this, I’m stuffin’ my cock down your throat,” He said, turning back and continuing to wash his body.

It was probably best he kept his eagerness to himself, or how much he really **didn’t**  have a problem with what’d happened. Dean had never really thought of it, but he wasn’t going to know the idea. Sam hadn’t tasted too awful, and the sensations weren’t really wrong. Maybe he was just a sexual fucking creature, but he wouldn’t really be opposed to more. That was probably fucked up.

Sam moved back to his shower and started washing his hair, “There won’t be a next time. And you’re welcome for me saving your ass…  **literally**.”

The younger Winchester lathered his hair up and purposefully thought about anything other than what Dean looked like sucking his cock, and the prospect of doing that in return. It took valiant fucking effort but he finally managed to get his erection to go down, it took so long it was starting to ache.

Dean’s lips were still numb from his brother’s cock and he was, somewhat, curious if that was something to be expected when giving head.

He finished in the shower and walked out, grabbing up his towel and drying himself down before getting dressed. Thanks to those fucking idiots in the shower, he was thinking some seriously ill things about his little brother, and he was at a complete loss of what to do about it.

They probably weren’t going to be satisfied with just that, though, Dean was already getting hungry looks from them again. It was probably because of seeing him actually do that, and - apparently -  _willingly_.

Sam just rolled his eyes as Dean walked away without so much as a word, he finished rinsing his hair and followed suit - drying himself off and putting his clean jumper on.

Everything felt off, wrong somehow - Dean was being distant and that wasn’t something Sam was use to, even though the older Winchester was rightfully cold. But it wasn’t like they got a whole lot of time together, not since they’d been in this hell hole.

Sam was thinking that maybe if he could get Deacon alone, he could convince him to pull some strings and get them in the same cell.

* * *

Dean pushed around the contents of his breakfast on his tray and tossed the little bottle of salt into a pile with the ones they’d collected from the day before.

Though he’d been quiet since the shower, his fucking mind sure as hell hadn’t. He couldn’t shut the damn thing up. He kept thinking of Sam’s goddamn cock in his mouth, weighted, plush tip resting on his tongue-“We still dunno what we’re up against,” He said, looking up from his food and turning his head when the guy at the table behind Sam smirked knowingly at him, “And these fuckin’ guys in here aren’t fallin’ for our act anymore’n we are.”

“I was thinking about that,” Sam took a drink of his milk and sat the carton back down, “If we could talk Deacon into it, maybe the inmates would believe it more if we were bunked together. I don’t think he’d have a problem with it.”

The younger Winchester mainly kept his eyes downcast, almost paranoid to look at Dean - because if he did, he was afraid he’d see nothing but how his brother looked with his lips wrapped around his cock.

“Yeah? An’ then what?” Dean all but hissed, trying to keep his voice low, “Both of our cells are across from people, they’re gonna know, one way or another, an’ I…” His eyes flitted over to one guy sitting in another’s lap, two more in the corner, one obviously out of sight as the larger man held his head down and Dean’s eyes widened as the guy looked at him as well, _fucking Christ_ , “That was the worst goddamn idea you had, Sam, they know.”

“Really, Dean?” Sam growled back, leaning in and glaring at his brother, “Was it really worse than potentially having your ass pounded by big ol’ _Brutus_?” The younger Winchester was having a hard time dealing with how Dean was treating him, being short and cold when he’d normally be bending over backwards just to make Sam laugh.

“And we’d have blankets, Dean, if we can just get Deacon to go through with it. We could put one up at the end of the bunk and no one would be any wiser. Besides, it’d be easier to figure out what we’re looking for if we’re together, being separated isn’t doing any good,” Sam tucked his chin to his chest after pushing his tray away, disgusted with how things were turning out.

Dean sighed and put his head against his palm before he got up and moved around to Sam’s side of the table. He pulled his tray around and took Sam’s arm, positioning it across his lower back.

“Look, it wasn’t that bad, okay? I’d just… I know you were under pressure, so was I in case you don’t remember, I was the naked guy pressed against the wall, an’ then on his knees, suckin’ your cock. That last one’s kinda hard to forget.”

He turned back to his food, taking a bite of the eggs, “And it uh… I wouldn’t have a problem doin’ it again, if they need more proof.”

It felt like Sam’s throat was drying out as he looked pointedly to where Dean had positioned his arm, so he swallowed and tried focusing on his brother’s words instead - which turned out wasn’t that great of an idea either, and now he was growing harder just thinking about it.

He tried taking his brother’s words with a grain of salt, knowing that they didn’t mean any more than Dean had led on. Sam was just being naive and hopeful about everything and, it was stupid to get so caught up in all of this when they were literally right in the middle of a case.

The younger Winchester nodded numbly, looking around the cafeteria and noting that the men who’d been looking at Dean before were averting their eyes, “Well, then let’s just hope they don’t need anymore proof then, right?”

“Don’t make a difference to me,” Dean admitted, shifting even closer to his brother, “We gotta get in on this ghost bastard before someone else gets killed, but I don’t think we’re gonna be able to do that without more proof. Neither of us’ve seen it, best we got is gatherin’ salt at this point, you got any bright ideas, Sasquatch?”

It was one thing being across from Sam every day of his life, but being **this**  close really made him recognize the difference in size, like when they hugged. When Sam practically swallowed him whole, and Dean lost himself in the wide torso, long arms, and the height of his brother. He didn’t know how to explain it, even to himself, he just  _liked_  that.

Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion when Dean said it didn’t matter, wasn’t that why the older Winchester had been giving him the cold shoulder? The younger Winchester sighed out of frustration, his hand gripping Dean’s side as he thought of something.

“Maybe talk to people that’ve been in here for a while,” Sam shrugged and took a deep breath, “I’ve got mop duty with a guy that’s been here for over twenty years, that’s bound to get us somewhere.”

“Hopefully,” Dean ate through the last of his food somewhat hesitantly, it’d gone cold, and without some sort of flavoring, it tasted like ass. But it was food, nonetheless, he’d stomach it if he had to.

That sharp, bitter taste of Sam’s cock suddenly rose up in his mind and it probably wasn’t something he should’ve ever known the taste of. Before he even thought about what he was saying, the words were out, “You ever tasted yourself?”

Sam pulled away gently, eyebrows raising as Sam pointed to himself, “Have I ever-“

The younger Winchester squinted at Dean, suddenly extremely curious, “ _Where is your mind at right now_? Jesus, Dean. I mean, how would I even be able t-to… to, to do that?”

Dean smirked and shrugged innocently. Though the action was simple, he still looked at his brother in an almost accusing way.

Sam seriously  _didn’t_  want to know where his mind was at, so he tried to play the ‘you can’t tell me’ card he knew so well, “You can’t tell me that you’ve jacked off all your life an’ never  _tasted_  it afterwards? Like… _Licked your fingers._ ”

“Wha-” Sam knew he was sputtering and stuttering, but this onslaught of personal questions  **really**  threw him off and he could feel himself blushing, “W-Why would you even wanna know that?”

His eyes widened and he all but slapped his palm over his face, “Is this like, your way of trying to tell me I taste bad?”

Dean laughed, “I’m not tryin’ to tell you anythin’, Sam.”  _No, not at all_ , “I just had you’re cock down my throat an’ I can’t ask such a goddamn simple question? You’re actin’ like you’re fifteen years old. F’I know how you taste, I just think you should too.”

“I do, Dean,” Sam said abruptly, trying to stop the conversation from going any further - especially because it was about his cock, and Dean was talking so nonchalantly about it, “ _I have, okay? Satisfied?_ ”

“Alright, good,” The older Winchester turned back to his empty tray, smirking, “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

His brother was so fucking vanilla some times that it honestly surprised him that the man  **had**  tasted himself. That was actually the first thing Dean had ever done, right next to jacking off. And now he only knew what two men in the entire world tasted like, and the other one was his brother. _Fucking weird._

Sam swallowed and retorted, “Yeah, it **is**  hard.”

Incidentally enough, he wasn’t talking about the question but he was ninety percent sure Dean wouldn’t catch the meaning behind what he’d said. Talking to his brother about his cock and what he tastes like had him as hard as a fucking rock, he was distracted, thoughts straying to places they shouldn’t.

Dean wouldn’t have thought twice at the words if he didn’t realize that, firstly, they were said in a weird context, secondly, he was hard himself, and thirdly, he kind of  _knew_  that tone of voice.

He glanced down at Sam’s lap and raised his brow. The smirk that was splitting his face was probably some sort of devil-spawned creation and he leaned in, “I’ve tasted myself, before, you know.”

Sam stared at Dean for a moment, his brother’s grin was doing stupid shit to his insides, twisting him up and making him want things that were probably illegal in all fifty states.

He licked his lips and shook his head, his nose brushing Dean’s, “What makes you think I wanna know that?” The younger Winchester’s voice was off key, higher sort of, his nerves getting the best of him. If he didn’t believe himself then Dean sure as hell wouldn’t either.

“Because you’re as hard as  **I**  am,” Dean admitted, eyes dropping to Sam’s lips. He didn’t even realize what he’d said before it was out of his mouth, again. Goddamn, when Dean got horny he seriously got stupid with keeping his secrets and curiosities contained.

Still, he went with it, “I know you, an’ now I know what you taste like, you can’t try to convince me that all your blood isn’t rushin’ to your goddamn cock right now.”

“ _It is_ ,” Sam all but whispered and then leaned back to take a deep breath, eyes still curiously intent on Dean’s, “I’m not quite sure why it matters, though. We’re men, and talking about anything sex related is bound to get a guy hard.”  _It was a lie_. If he thought about half of the men in the prison on their knees for him, he’d probably stay flaccid.

The younger Winchester had never been interested in men, at all, but Dean wasn’t just an ordinary man - he fit into a different category entirely.

“Well, then I have to confess that my cock is somehow broken,” Dean rolled his eyes, standing once he’d willed himself back and he picked up his tray, “Either that, or you’re not as smart as you think you are.” He winked at Sam, glancing up at a few inmates looking at them before he put his tray away.

Sam sat there dumbfounded for a moment and picked his tray up to follow Dean. He chuckled quietly to himself because it seemed like this was all his life boiled down to, _following after his brother_.

The younger Winchester dumped his tray and put it away as well. He caught up with Dean and grabbed him by the shoulder as he leaned in next to the older man’s ear, “ _Talk to Deacon and have him get us in the same cell, alright? I’m gonna go talk to that guy, see if he’s seen anything._ ”

“Alright, I’ll uh…  _Do that_ ,” Dean confirmed, looking at Sam and pursing his lips.

This place was getting to him in a serious way. He could handle his own, but the things it was doing to his relationship with his brother was kind of bothering him.

While there were so many parts of him that was against the idea, he kept acting out on the opposite, sometimes to stop from hurting Sam and other times to satisfy himself. And though most had resulted in his brother looking at him weirdly, the only one that had resulted in him being hurt or upset was acting like a jackass, instead of lightly flirting.

* * *

During mop duty, the man Sam had talked to turned out to be useful, which was slightly why he was in such a good mood when he sat down next to Dean on the bench in the courtyard - because any lead was good, and hopefully they’d be able to get out sooner than they expected. Being confined within these walls was already making things rough between the two of them.

“So get this,” Sam started without even waiting for Dean to look at him, “I talked to that guy and apparently he’s seen some things. Well, more like thing, not plural - but he says no one ever believes him. Claims he’s seen a ghost like figure of a woman, looks like she’s a nurse or something. So I’m thinking maybe the infirmary is where we need to check out.”

Dean looked up from his pile of cigarettes and nodded, “Good work, Sam,” He said, counting out the butts in his head, “I managed to get our uh…  _Our cell for two_. We might be able to ask around. I mean, if she’s a nurse, I’d imagine someone around here’s gotta know about her.”

“I’d imagine so, yeah,” Sam rested his elbows on the table and looked at the pile of cigarettes curiously, “What in the hell are you doing?”

“ _Currency_ ,” Dean said, grinning, “Also, these people really suck at playin’ poker.” He shrugged, “I figured we’d need’a make a few deals, might make askin’ around go smoother, too.”

Sam raised his brows and nodded, but otherwise just sat silently beside Dean. It felt awkward, normally conversation came to the two of them effortlessly. But ever since the shower incident, they were both acting weird.

“So how’re we gonna get into the infirmary?” Dean asked, picking up his cigarettes and standing from the bench, pocketing them within his jacket, “I hope you’ve got some brilliant fuckin’ plan, otherwise we gotta go elsewhere.”

“I’ve got a plan,” Sam stood up from the bench and pocketed his hands into the ugly blue jacket he was wearing as he tacked on sarcastically, “But I think we both know how great my plans are.”

Dean raised a brow, “See reference - this mornin’s shower.” He cleared from the bench, ignoring the eyes of a few guys following them, and keeping his shoulders at rest. Though the comment was meant to be sarcastic, he was actually kind of serious.

“Are you not ever gonna let that go?” Sam asked nervously, thoughts starting to flood him as he squared his shoulders and took his hands out of his pockets, taking a few deep breaths to prepare himself, “Alright let’s just do this, we’ll have to rough each other up pretty good - should get us into the infirmary.”

“I can still taste your cock, yeah, no, I’m not gonna let that one go,” Dean admitted and then he paused, looking at Sam as he frowned, “Wait, what’re we doin’?”

Sam rolled his eyes and urged Dean on with his hands, “We’re gonna beat the shit out of each other, now come on before I change my mind.”

Dean laughed nervously as he turned bodily to Sam, “I’m not gonna hit you.” He stared at his brother incredulously, still kind of confused about exactly what was happening.

“We need to get into that infirmary, Dean,” Sam insisted, looking at the older Winchester seriously, “Preferably together, and this is the way we do that.”

“No,” Dean shook his head, “You can hit me all you want, but I’m not gonna hit my baby brother, it’s not gonna happen.” He was actually getting kind of bothered now, the idea of trying to hurt Sam… He couldn’t just do something like that on command.

“If anything you should wanna clock me a good one for this morning,” Sam was getting to be just as bad as Dean, constantly bringing it back up, “If we don’t get in this way then what are we gonna do? Do  **you**  have any bright ideas?”

The older Winchester nodded, “Alright, I  **should**  wanna clock you, but that’s different. An’ I really don’t. You can say an’ do some fuckin’ stupid things some times… You’re gonna hafta hit me first, Sam, I don’t think I can actually do this.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll kiss and make up later,” Sam said nonchalantly, moving in closer to Dean as he cracked his knuckles, “If I hit you first you’ve gotta promise you’re gonna hit me back, or else I can’t do it. And we can’t stop at one punch, okay? We’ll have a limited amount of time to do enough damage to land us in the infirmary.”

Dean frowned, “I fuckin’ hate this idea, Sam. Just so we’re clear on that.”

His stomach didn’t feel right, it was twisting up so badly, it was almost like he couldn’t breathe or something, numb at the hands and feet. Doing this would go against his very nature, against everything he stood for.

Sam reached out and squeezed his brother’s bicep, “If you really don’t wanna do this then we need a plan B, you got one?”

“I  **don’t**  know what else to do,” Dean shook his head helplessly, shoulders slumping, “One of us can go in, or somethin’. I can’t hit you, Sam, don’t make me do it.”

Sam frowned, knowing that he couldn’t go through with his idea, considering he’d already practically made Dean do something he didn’t want to do once today, “Then we’re not doing it. I think I’ve filled my quota on making you do things you don’t want to do, we’ll figure something else out.”

“Suckin’ your cock is one thin’, I could do that any day,” Dean turned away, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, “But askin’ me to hurt you is like askin’ me to step on a two day old puppy, you can’t ask somethin’ like that from me. Hell, I’d probably have better luck with the pup.”

“Don’t worry about it. I said we’d figure something else out, not sure what - but we will,” Sam crossed his arms and looked around the courtyard idly, trying so fucking hard not to comment on the first thing Dean had said.

“You can just beat the shit outta me, I don’t mind, I can go in alone,” Dean suggested, he felt kind of useless, being unable to hit his brother, which probably didn’t make sense - but he liked doing right by Sam, giving him what he wanted, and he wasn’t sure what else they could do.

“I’m not just gonna let you go in there alone,” Sam shook his head, they were better off together, “Besides, if I hit you and you don’t hit me, you’ll go to the infirmary and I’ll get stuck in solitary.”

Dean nodded slowly as he considered it, “Alright well, that leaves only one option.” He pulled his cigarettes from his pockets and began stuffing them into Sam’s, patting his brother’s chest when he was done, “Hold onto those for me, you’re gonna need ‘em.”

Sam grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him close, panic settling deep into his features, “I don’t know what you’re thinking of doing but I don’t like it, don’t do it. We can do this together, Dean, come on.”

“We don’t  **have**  another way, Sam,” Dean said, smiling at him and patting him on the cheek, “I’m your older brother, an’ you gotta trust me on this one.” The older Winchester walked away, breathing carefully as he stepped up to a group of guys and tapped the largest on the shoulder.

The man turned around, raising his brow at Dean as he sized him up, “What?”

Dean swallowed and smiled, “So, I was wonderin’, does your mom give good head?”

He could swear he saw the man’s eyes go fucking  **wide**  before his expression darkened and Dean ducked the punch aimed for his face, grabbing the man around the waist and flipping him over his back.

He side-stepped the second guy and was about to turn around and kick him in the ass when a third caught him up under the pits. It was the second, recovering from Dean’s dodge, that got him, stepping in and smashing Dean out before he had a second to recover.

Sam clenched his jaw as he watched Dean walk away and pick a fight. It was awful, almost painful to stand back and see the whole thing play out from a distance, but when the guy continued to kick Dean - even after he was down - Sam had had enough.

The younger Winchester was moving forward before he even realized it, shouting at the guy to stop, “You should probably pick a fight with someone your own size, asshole.”

The guy nodded and swung at Sam suddenly, catching the corner of his jaw, causing him to bite his tongue.

Sam backed up a little and smirked at the guy, spitting out the blood and wiping his mouth before he advanced on him and took him to the ground with a tackle to the midsection.

The inmate struggled under his weight, arms flailing for a moment before he growled and threw his fist up, managing to punch Sam square in the nose.

The younger Winchester felt a crack with the blow, and then a dull ache, followed by warmth as the blood started pouring from his nose.

It was right about then when the guards managed to yank Sam off the guy, roughing him up a little more in the process. A couple of other guards were nearby, picking Dean up off the ground.

Sam knew the older Winchester would be pissed when he woke up, but Sam had to improvise somehow.

* * *

The first thing Dean recognized was the taste of his own blood. It wasn’t a nice way to wake up, and his head pounded as he sat up. His whole body was stiff with ache, and he wasn’t sure why that was, considering he’d only remembered the hit to the face.

Sam was sitting on the edge of the cot when Dean woke up, see-through cells separating them even though they weren’t fighting each other, “Welcome back to the world of the living.” The younger Winchester winced as he brushed his fingers over his nose, dried blood all over his face.

“Yeah, no kiddin’,” Dean winced, looking over at the tray of food and grabbing at it weakly, “Why the hell are you in here? I started that fight to avoid you gettin’ hurt.”

“They were kicking the shit out of you, I couldn’t just stand there and watch,” Sam laid down on his cot and stared up at the ceiling, “Next time don’t get your ass knocked out and I won’t have to step in. Pretty sure the guy broke my nose.”

“He did what‽” Dean stood up, nearly tossing his tray over his lap as he turned to Sam’s cage, even though he couldn’t see his brother through the partition, “Who did it, Sam? I’m gonna rip his goddamn lungs out.”

Sam smiled at how worked up Dean was getting, so protective and loving. The younger Winchester wouldn’t admit it to Dean, but he loved it. Sam sat up slowly and moved from the cot, he walked over to the partition and put his hand on it as he talked to his brother.

“Broke my nose, and it was the same guy who didn’t know how to stop kicking you once you were down,” Sam pressed his forehead to the wall as well, “I’m okay, though, alright? Calm down.”

“I’ll be calm once his face looks worse’n yours,” Dean’s brows narrowed, he didn’t really give two fucks about the guy kicking him, but his  **brother** was another thing entirely…

“You couldn’t just sit back an’ let me take it, could you? Always gotta run in an’ be dumb.” He sighed, grabbing his tray back and looking at Sam’s silhouette as he started eating, “Next time, just watch from a distance.”

“Right,” Sam scoffed, letting his hand slide away from the partition as he backed away, “I can’t stand watching you get beaten all to Hell, and I’m dumb for stepping in. I don’t really see the difference between you taking up for me and me doing the same for you, except I don’t call you a dumb shit for doing it. It’s amazing how you can go from concerned to complete ass in no time at all.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “I didn’t want you to get hurt, an’ now here you are, same room as I am, with a goddamn broken nose. If bein’ upset about that makes me an ass, then I’m an ass.” He started eating the food, looking at the little bottle of salt and chewing slowly on his slice of pork, “My fuckin’ cheek is swollen,” he observed.

“I told you I wasn’t going to let you come in here by yourself. I’m not a little kid, Dean, I can take a hit just as well as you can,” Sam just looked at his tray of food and grimaced, there was no way he was going to touch it - he’d probably end up starving to death before they made it out of there.

The younger Winchester walked around his cage for a minute or two, trying to give the tension time to dissipate before speaking up again, “I don’t like that I can’t see you, they could’ve put us in the same cell. It’s not like we were fighting each other.”

“I don’t like it either,” Dean sighed, hand reaching out to run idly over the beginning of his brother’s shape before dropping down.

He looked up from his food and paused when his eyes met the dark, curious ones of the nurse’s spirit, staring at him from across the room, “Ah, shit.” He stood, stomach bottoming out as she advanced on him.

“Dean?” Sam moved to the partition again, becoming a little worried at his brother’s tone of voice, “What’s going on‽ Is it her, the nurse?”

“Yeah, it’s her,” Dean moved to the front of his cage, checking it, but to no avail, he looked back to his tray, grabbing the salt and holding it tight as he looked up at her.

“The salt,” He said, licking his lips before he was shoved back by an invisible force, slamming the wall and falling onto the ground. He opened his eyes, staring up at her as she knelt down and shoved her hand against his chest. Agonizing pain shot through him at once and he gasped.

“Dean!” Sam scrambled about his cell, hands in his hair as he tried finding something better than a measly packet of salt. The frame to the cot was fairly thin and appeared to be made of iron.

The younger Winchester got down on the floor and grabbed one of the cot’s legs as he kicked roughly at the top part of the frame. It only took about five or so good solid kicks and Sam had a decent weapon.

He went right back to the partition and started yelling, “Hey, ghost bitch! You don’t want him, you want me, come get it!”

The older Winchester popped the cap on the bottle of salt he had clutched in his fist and threw it in her face, sighing in relief as she let off and vanished. He curled his arms in on himself, heart racing, the tight, pin-needle throngs of pain so sharp he almost couldn’t think.

The ghost appeared beside Sam suddenly, furious now, hissing and reaching out for him.

Sam could feel his heart racing as she lurched forward after him. He pulled the iron bar out from behind his back and swung it, dispersing the nurse into thin air. The younger Winchester sighed and dropped the piece of iron, moving back to the wall that separated him and his brother.

“Are you okay, Dean?” Sam was panicking, but he kept his voice calm for the most part, “She hurt you?”

“Yeah I… I think I’m okay,” Dean gasped as his head dropped back against the floor, “That bitch.”

He stood numbly, chest still aching as he climbed onto his cot, “How about you, she come after you?” It had been close, a seriously fucking close call. After this case, he was going to sleep for a week.

“Yeah but I-I got rid of her, for now, anyways,” Sam just turned and pressed his back to the wall, he slid down so that he was sitting in the floor - he chuckled, “Tore my cot all to hell.”


	2. Part 2

Dean leaned against the side of their new, shared cell, still rubbing his hand over his chest before he reached up and took Sam’s face in his palms. His brows tightened together as he observed the bruising on his brother's eyes, the dark shadows under them and he sighed, “You look ridiculous, like a goddamn raccoon.”

Sam just grinned fondly at his brother, feeling relieved that they were back together again, "Still better looking than you." The younger Winchester laid his palm over Dean's chest where he'd been rubbing, trying to soothe his brother further.

“Eh, I’ll live,” Dean shrugged, smiling. “You point that guy out next time you see him, I’ll break his fuckin’ nose - back, for ya.” He side-glanced the guys in the cell across from them, one watching them curiously and he sighed, “Does it hurt?”

"I'm not gonna point him out just so you can get into another pointless fight, Dean," Sam said while shaking his head, eyes unintentionally flicking down to the older Winchester's lips, "It's sore but I'll heal."

“You still got all the cigarettes? We’re gonna have to make our move tomorrow an’ start askin’ around,” Dean asked, walking to his bed and sitting down stiffly, touching over his chest again as he leaned back against the wall, “I got a pretty good lookit her, that should help.”

Sam sat down next to Dean and pulled the cigarettes out of his pocket, he handed them to his brother, most of them were fine, but some were broken and, considering what had happened, it was to be expected.

The younger Winchester kicked off his shoes and pulled his legs up onto the bed, making himself comfortable as he mimicked Dean and leaned against the wall, "It'd be easier to ask Deacon. I'd say he's more likely to have records or something of people that have worked and died here."

Dean shrugged, “Yeah, maybe. Talkin’ to him isn’t as easy as it should be, I’m surprised I was able to pull **this** off,” He motioned to the cell, “We’ve done good so far, though, she hasn’t killed anyone else, yet.”

His heart thrummed up as he looked at his brother, as his eyes fell to Sam’s lips, as he took in the heat radiating from the larger man’s body and, even though it made him uneasy, it also sort of comforted him - in some weird, fucked up way.

Sam leaned into Dean a little more, "Thank God you pulled this off, though," He turned his head a little to look at Dean, his arms wrapped around his knees, "My cell mate was bigger and definitely stronger than me, he was starting to look at me funny. And there's no doubt in my mind that your cell mate was doing the same to you."

“It’s the lips, isn’t it?” Dean smirked, raising his brows knowingly, “I can’t help it, it’s hard to contain all of my sex appeal, even in prison.” _Maybe especially._

Sam chuckled and grinned, looking back at his brother's lips more obviously this time, "More than likely, they're all probably just jealous they haven't had them around their dicks."

Dean swallowed as his cock stirred suddenly and he licked his lips, remembering the taste of Sam on them, “Likely, I can’t say there’s many men that actually know what that feels like.”

Sam crossed his arms and rested them on his knees, staring intently at Dean for what should have been an unsettling amount of time, "I feel bad for them, then."

“Must... Feel good to know you’re not one of ‘em,” Dean barely breathed, leaning in slightly more, eyes darkening.

" _Yeah_ ," Sam all but whispered and put one hand down on the bed to steady his weight as he leaned in more as well, it was like they were playing chicken with one another, " _Does feel good_."

Dean’s heavy, bated breath ghosted across Sam’s lips as their noses brushed together from his movements even further into his brother’s space, eyes flicking up to look into Sam’s, “I could probably be coerced into doin’ it again.”

Sam brought his other hand up and ran the pad of his thumb across Dean's bottom lip, hands shaking as he licked his lips nervously, "And what would I have to do to persuade you?"

The older Winchester swallowed, smirking slightly, though he was fucking nervous as hell, skin crawling, everything inside of him aching to be closer to his brother, “Reciprocate,” He breathed before pressing his lips to Sam’s.

Sam nodded and hummed as he kissed Dean, his hand automatically sliding to his brother's jaw. It felt like they'd been skirting around this for a lifetime instead of a day.

The younger Winchester pulled away for a minute and looked towards the cell across from them, "One second." He tugged the cover off the bed and moved to tie it up at the end of the bunk so that no one could see them.

He moved back in and crowded Dean's space like he'd never left in the first place, one hand on his brother's leg, pulling the older Winchester to a horizontal position as Sam hovered over him, kissing and nipping at the smaller man's lips.

Dean gasped into his brother’s mouth and reached up, fingers tangling in Sam’s messy hair, smiling at it’s softness.

Goddamn, it was like a fucking glass of ice-cold water on a summer day, kissing his brother. The mouth he’d practically stared at every single day of his brother’s life, maybe not in the same way he was now, but he knew the lips pressed against his own better than anyone else. His teeth took up Sam’s bottom lip, turning his head to be careful of brushing their noses together so he didn’t hurt his brother.

Sam let his left hand wander between them, undoing the buttons to his brother's orange jumper as he groaned into the older Winchester's mouth. If Dean wanted Sam to reciprocate, then he would, and wouldn't even think twice about it - especially considering he'd been wanting to return the favor since earlier on in the day.

After getting the first four or five buttons undone, Sam let his hand slide underneath the fabric to feel his brother's skin, his fingertips brushing Dean's nipple as he rolled his hips against the older man's.

“Sam, fuck,” Dean shivered out, legs dropping open as his back arched, the sticky heat of the jail cell soaking into him as he felt the hard press of his brother’s cock against his own. He reached down, hands tugging at Sam’s buttons, almost shaking as he eagerly went through them, pushing the top of the jumpsuit from the larger man’s shoulders as he sighed in relief, fingers touching along Sam's neck and collarbone.

"Eventually," Sam grinned and pushed the top part of Dean's jumper over his shoulders a bit, then he tugged on the end of the arms and pushed them both under his brother's back.

The younger Winchester pressed his body to Dean's so that the older man couldn't just pull his hands back out, one hand gripping his brother's hip, his other was rolling Dean's left nipple between his fingers as he kissed along Dean's jaw.

Dean practically trembled under his brother, body sweated as his back arched again, hips struggling for friction as he breathed and wrapped a leg around Sam’s, “That’s not fair,” He did **not** whimper, desperate for more. He felt like he was going to explode, cock straining against the front of his jumpsuit, embarrassingly hard as he panted and struggled more.

Sam kissed his way back to his brother's lips and smirked as he rolled his hips roughly, "You'll like it," He carded his fingers through Dean's short spiked hair as he nipped at the older man's chin, "Just be good and stop squirming, I'll make you feel good, don't worry."

Dean smirked and raised his brows, “Mm, really?” Now he was curious.

Of course his brother would be such a control freak, he was with everything else. Dean kind of liked it though, like... A lot - if his fucking intensifying boner was anything to go off of. And, if he trusted anyone to hold him in such a helpless position, it was his brother. He relaxed, looking down to watch Sam as he tried to keep quiet.

Sam slid down Dean's body slowly, kissing along his brother's neck and Adam's apple, scraping his teeth over Dean's chest and twirling his tongue around both nipples, he blew gently on the wet skin and proceeded to kiss and lick his way down his brother's abdomen.

He reached up and grabbed the top part of the jumpsuit, then pulled it down, stuffing Dean's arms right back underneath himself, "Keep 'em there."

“Bitch,” Dean breathed, but he listened none-the-less. Teasing was always half the fun, and he was patient enough to let Sam have his way with him. Hell, that was what Dean’s purpose in life was, he was perfectly fine with giving Sam this. But his brother didn’t need to know just how eager he was to do it.

Every time Sam got near his fucking nipples he thought he was going to faint, normally they were ignored - though Cassie had known enough - but he wasn’t as use to it as he was most other things.

"Jerk," Sam mumbled against his brother's skin before biting the older man's hip gently, he smiled before letting the mushy skin go.

As he moved down he gradually pulled the jumpsuit with him and at this point he was tracing circles around Dean's navel, the fabric hanging low on the older man's hips as Sam cupped his brother's erection and squeezed teasingly, kissing down along the barely there happy trail.

Dean looked down, arms aching underneath him, body rising with each of his breaths, perspiration sticking to his skin as he moaned. It was like getting something you’d never thought of, and then felt confused about how you didn’t before. Yearning, suddenly, aching with want, and he didn’t care about anything else at the moment, just Sam’s mouth.

He wasn’t even going to try and convince himself otherwise, this was what he wanted, probably for the rest of his life. The strong, solid man over him, the messy brown locks, how had he not wanted this before?

Sam hooked his fingers under the fabric and began tugging it down the rest of the way, the boxers that the prison allowed and all, his brother's cock arched up and brushed against the side of his jaw.

The younger Winchester looked up at Dean nervously, he swallowed thickly and then smiled before leaning back in and kissing the soft bristles of pubic hair around Dean's shaft, "You want it?"

“Yeah,” It was more of a sigh, an exhalation of air as Dean watched Sam hungrily, licking his lips as his body tightened up, want was such an understatement though, so he corrected his brother, “I **need** it, Sam, please.”

Sam nodded and then licked his way up his brother's length, from base to tip as he placed one hand firmly on Dean's hip to keep him from moving, his other hand gripping the base of the erection firmly. The younger Winchester took a deep breath and circled his tongue around the plush tip of Dean's cock, taking in the heady, musky scent - filling his senses with it the best he could until he felt light headed.

Sam suckled almost experimentally on the tip, tasting and getting a feel for it on his tongue before groaning in approval and taking as much of the length as possible into his mouth.

Dean watched with widening eyes, lips parting as Sam’s mouth stretched over him and it was the most fucking glorious thing he’d ever seen, the wet, pale upper lip, dimples creasing Sam’s cheeks. The brows got him more than anything, probably, all furrowed and studious, their worried little center all ruffled up.

“Sam,” He said, lips numb from the sight, wondering if this was how his brother’d felt in the shower.

The younger Winchester hummed around Dean's girth in acknowledgment and started moving his hand in turn with his mouth, swallowing and repeatedly lowering his mouth onto Dean. He wasn't completely sure what to do, but he'd seen enough porno's in the span of his lifetime to get the gist of it. Sam squeezed Dean's hip and grinded his hips down against the mattress, moaning from the friction.

“Ah, fuck,” Dean was having a difficult time keeping his arms behind himself, hips struggling against Sam’s fingers as he dropped his head back and arched, knees rising as his legs bent. He kicked his stupid little slippers off, running the soles of his feet down Sam’s backside, “Can I touch you now, seriously, man? I’m goin’ to fuckin’ die if I don’t.”

Sam looked up at Dean as he pushed himself down further than he'd gone before, lips practically resting around the base of his brother's cock as his eyes watered and he nodded subtly.

It was intoxicating almost, the way Dean tasted, each suckle and lick was like fueling the fire - causing Sam to suck and fist at the length with more urgency than before.

Dean reached out finally, one hand tangling in Sam’s hair at once, the other he brought to his mouth, licking his fingers before running them over his left nipple. He sighed and sat up a bit, still watching Sam as he writhed, legs trembling and clamping around his brother’s torso.

Sam let his hand glide from Dean's hip and down his thigh, gripping him just above his knee as he made wet, slick sounds as he sucked on Dean's cock frantically - and he was able to stay completely hard while doing so. If anything, sucking his brother's cock made him even **harder**.

“Sam,” Dean sat up the rest of the way, pushing on his brother’s shoulder, “Stop I... I’m really _close_.” His voice was dark, panting and rasping as he stopped touching himself, brows tightening, body shaking as he tugged on Sam’s hair with his other hand.

Sam pulled off for a split second, but only enough to mumble out a, "I'm not stopping, you can just come in my mouth," through numb lips before wrapping his lips back around the head of his brother's throbbing cock. The younger Winchester brushed his palms over Dean's balls and then cupped them lightly as he began bobbing his head, hazel eyes glancing up at Dean as he smirked around the girth.

Dean was going to argue his brother, but he was already so close, fingers tightening in Sam’s hair, holding him down as Dean’s body locked and arched, still sitting upright as he choked off a gasp, come filling his brother’s mouth and he used his free hand to hold himself up, legs shaking, feet firmly planted on the bed as his toes curled.

Sam groaned as he felt the hot liquid filling his mouth, the sharp, bitter taste making him gag, but only slightly. It was his first time tasting and swallowing someone else's come, and come was definitely an **acquired** taste, but he took a deep breath and rolled his tongue over the slit, collecting the small amount that was dribbling out.

The younger Winchester all but crawled up Dean's body, his shaggy hair shadowing his face a little as he kissed Dean, making the older man taste himself on Sam's lips.

Dean kissed back furiously, pulling Sam against him as he smirked. That was a flavor he knew _well_ , and it was on his goddamn brother’s tongue.

He grabbed Sam as he laid back down, pulling him as Dean's legs hiked, feet catching the back of his brother’s jumper and pushing it along Sam’s thighs. He reached with his hands then, shoving the boxers down as well and arching his body against the larger man eagerly. He shuddered into Sam's mouth, licking his lips and tongue until either he’d reacquainted himself with the taste, or it’d just dissipated, he wasn’t sure which.

Sam rested his hand beneath Dean's jaw as they kissed, his other hand holding some of his weight up off of his brother. The younger Winchester hadn't really expected things to go any further than him blowing Dean, but clearly the older man was having other idea's.

“Sonovabitch,” Dean said, voice shaky, one hand clasping Sam’s hip, the other touching his chest as he leaned in, pressing kisses to Sam’s collarbone before turning and whispering into his ear, “ _Thank you_.”

Sam brushed his cheek against the shorter man's and rolled his hips, he gasped when his aching cock brushed against Dean's, "For what?"

“For makin’ post-it notes, what the fuck d’you think, **bitch**?” Dean chuckled against his brother’s ear, reaching down between them and taking Sam’s length in his grip, giving it a few sharp, firm pumps concentrated on the head.

"Smart ass," Sam all but hissed and involuntarily bucked his hips as he smeared his lips along Dean's jaw, "You d-don't have to do that. I don't need anything in return." The younger Winchester was trying to be polite more than anything, though he was dying to get off and to further feel his brother touching him.

“I don’t much care for your attempts at bein’ selfless, that’s my game,” Dean ran the tip of his nose through the short bristle of Sam’s right sideburn, teeth gnawing along his brother’s jaw for a moment, “Tell me what you want from me, Sammy. I’ll give you anythin’ you want, you just name it, anythin' at all.”

"What I **really** want from you would be best postponed for another time," Sam leaned back enough to look down into Dean's eyes, noses barely brushing together - not enough to hurt himself, "With that being said, anything other than sex is fine."

The younger Winchester kissed his brother slowly, "We could replay this morning, this time we won't have an audience."

Dean chuckled and nodded, lifting his legs and putting them between Sam’s, one by one, before sliding down along the bed, his legs falling off the end, Sam’s cock smearing up his stomach until it was level with Dean’s mouth. He leaned up though, kissing his brother’s stomach, hands running along the back of Sam’s thighs before cupping his ass cheeks and Dean peppered kisses down the length, running his tongue along the underside of it, breathing careful and slow.

Sam had seemed like a natural, and it took Dean a moment to register the awkward taste again before bravely taking the tip between his lips, suckling the head as he worked the shaft in one hand.

"Shit, what- what are you..." Sam gripped the thin sheets as he looked down to where Dean was, " **Ah**."

The first time this happened the younger Winchester kept his hands to himself, fought the instinct to touch Dean and urge him on. But now, the dynamics had changed and he could... _Oh God_. He could quite literally fuck himself into Dean's mouth - the thought alone was making him throb in the heat of his brother's mouth.

Dean tried to do like Sam had, relaxing his jaw, keeping his teeth back, head moving up to draw the cock into his mouth. He dropped his hand away carefully, moving it, instead, to cup Sam’s balls, thumbing the globes as his other hand smoothed over Sam’s back, easing the hips down. He felt the length brush the back of his throat and breathed slow through his nose, closing his eyes in concentration.

Sam bent one of his arms and rested his head against his forearm as he moaned, the hand that had been gripping the sheet was now laying encouragingly on the top of his brother's head, no force behind it or anything - he just wanted to touch the older Winchester, to have contact. The younger Winchester used all the restraint he had to keep from thrusting down into Dean's mouth, even though it was an idea he didn't mind - it was something they'd have to work up to.

Dean looked up through his lashes, staring at Sam as his head rested back on the bed, hands guiding Sam’s hips down, urging them on. He swirled his tongue over the plush tip of his brother’s cock, eyes widening at the sudden stick of precome sliding down his tongue and he lazed it along the underneath of the length, unable to hold back the eager, hungry groan of approval.

He reached up, wiping up the line of spit starting down his jaw and smeared it between his fingers. He almost smirked, his hand moving between his brother’s legs, sliding up to the puckered entrance of Sam’s ass hole and the pad of his finger rolled around the muscle.

Sam almost jumped out of his fucking skin when he felt the pressure against his entrance, his nerves making his heart pound wildly inside his chest, but the unanticipated action - as startling as it was, mainly because no one including himself had ever done anything of the like - was actually turning him on even more, "Uh, _Dean_."

Dean raised his brows, “Hmm?” He murmured around Sam’s cock, not even bothering to break his stride as he watched his brother closely.

Sam swallowed and closed his eyes as he shook his head, brows furrowing as he cradled the back of his brother's head in his palm, "Um, it's- it's nothing," He accidentally bucked his hips and his cock twitched, "Christ, just don't stop, _so fucking close_."

Dean felt his own body ache in interest at Sam’s thrust, and he didn’t know how else to convey that he was okay with it. He rested his head back in his brother’s grip, dropping his own from Sam’s waist.

He wiped another line of spit gathering and joined his first hand, leaving the motions of Sam’s hips to the younger Winchester as his fingers ran over the tight ring of muscle, over and over lazily before one pressed in, careful as the others gripped his brother’s right ass cheek.

Sam rolled his hips repeatedly and all but sobbed as he watched his length glide in and out of Dean's mouth, the visualization tied in with the newer sensations was putting him that much closer towards his release.

"Fuck, I'm... m'gonna," The younger Winchester stuffed himself all the way in Dean's mouth, hand on the back of his brother's head keeping him there as he came - thick, hot spurts of come no doubt coating the inner lining of his brother's throat.

Sam pulled off and released Dean's head, he rolled off of the older Winchester, cramming himself beside Dean on the tiny little cot as he rested his forearm over his eyes, "Shit, I'm sorry."

It didn’t even surprise Dean, the pulsing cock in his mouth, the hips pushing into him, the hand holding him there. He did his best to relax his throat and not fucking gag on the length, or the sudden, sharp taste of Sam’s come sliding down his throat.

His lips ached as Sam pulled away and apologized, Dean just laid on the shitty little bed and breathed for a moment before climbing up beside Sam and pulling his arm back.

He leaned in, pressing quick, heated kisses to his brother’s lips as he grinned, “Don’t be.”

Sam grabbed Dean by the face and returned the short, feverish kisses, eyes locked on the older Winchester's, "What the fuck are we doing?"

Dean was panting as he slowed, looking back at his brother nervously now. He frowned, swallowing before he sat up and reached out for his jumper, stepping into the legs of the boxers and his uniform and standing to pull them up, over his legs and ass, and hooking his arms into the sleeves. Leave it to Sam to seriously kill a mood.

Sam pulled his jumper up over his hips enough to cover himself as he sat up, confused as to why Dean just abruptly pulled away when all he did was ask a simple question.

The younger Winchester reached out and grabbed Dean by the hips to pull him back onto the cot, he nuzzled his brother's ear, "It was a question, Dean. I didn't say I didn't want this so don't act like such a sourpuss."

“I’m not a fan of questionin’ every fuckin’ thin’, Sam,” Dean said, pulling from his brother again, “Why d’you gotta ask what it is? Can’t it just be somethin’, an’ you can just leave it alone?”

He knew he was being overly defensive, but Dean knew that if he stopped long enough to do what Sam was doing, he’d probably be sick of himself, or confused. It felt right, it felt good, surely that was all that mattered.

Sam moved from the cot, becoming slightly irritated with the way Dean was acting. They were both sore so he wasn't overly rough when he pressed Dean up against the wall, pinning his hands above his head, "I was musing aloud, okay? I don't get why you're acting like this now, but pull the bur outta your ass. We obviously both enjoyed it."

The younger Winchester's brows were furrowed as he scowled at Dean, the inmates across from them were catcalling.

Dean turned to the guys in the cell across from them and glared, “Yeah, yeah, we get it. Now grow the fuck up an' go to sleep or somethin',” He looked back at Sam, arching his body and leaning in to kiss his brother again. He wasn’t a fan of talking, or overly complicated conversations, so whatever, he was willing to accept Sam’s words as is, and leave it at that.

Sam was taken aback by the kiss a little, part of him was expecting the older Winchester to continue arguing, considering it was usually what he did best, of course that came in a close second to taking care of Sam.

The younger Winchester let his hands slide down Dean's arms and then he cupped his brother's face within his palms, again, breathing deeply from his nose as he willed his nerves to calm.

Dean closed his eyes, arms dropping to Sam’s waist as he breathed slowly, carefully, tilting his head and parting his lips as he relaxed into the kiss. He drew his brother in closer, thumbs pressing into the larger man’s hips.

He didn’t really know or care what happened after they got off of this case, he just hoped it was somewhere along these lines, that he got the privilege of fucking losing himself in his brother like this - **with** Sam.

* * *

If it wasn't for Deacon pulling out old files on employees they probably still would have been stuck in the correctional facility. And as it turned out, Nurse Glockner's grave wasn't quite so hard to find, especially since Dean sweet talked their lawyer into finding out where she was buried. It felt good to finally be out from behind bars and out in open air, knowing that they weren't trapped within a confined space.

Sam looked at Dean and grinned, hands in his pockets as the high licks of the flames highlighted both of their faces, making just about every cut and bruise appear darker than it actually was.

Things between the two of them had continually gotten more surprising while they were in jail, and at this point there was really only one thing left to do - the one thing Sam had been wanting to do since the first day Dean sucked his cock.

"I'm glad all of this is over with," The younger Winchester mumbled, prying his eyes from Dean to look back at the fiery pit of a grave.

“You an’ me both,” Dean breathed out, thumbs in his pockets as he watched the fire for a moment, “They don’t normally get as difficult as that, do they?”

He was practically sore everywhere, sleeping on cots in jail wasn’t the most comfortable fucking thing in the world, and he still had aches from the fight. He looked up at his brother, the shadowed eyes from his broken nose, almost completely black around them, “I’m never wearin’ orange again.”

Sam shook his head and pulled his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms, "I think it seemed more difficult this time because we were unusually preoccupied." The younger Winchester moved closer to Dean and bumped their arms together intentionally as he sized his brother up and down, chuckling, "And I think orange is your color."

“Nah, I’m fine with my grays an’ blues,” Dean chuckled, turning away and leaning his back against a nearby headstone, “An’ our preoccupation was entirely **your** fault.” And now that they were out of jail, he’d willingly fuck for a century or two.

Sam stalked to Dean slowly, looking down at his brother through his shaggy bangs as he smirked and grabbed the older Winchester by the hips, "I'll gladly take the blame, though I don't look at it as a **fault** per se."

“It’s not everyday you blow your brother in front of twenty plus guys, for the first time,” Dean smirked, expression playful as he leaned in, nosing Sam’s jaw and kissing it.

Sam kissed Dean's temple and pulled his brother's bottom half towards him as he rolled his hips in turn, "You wouldn't wanna fuck in a cemetery would you? Because I'm tempted to bend you over one of these headstones."

“Dude, you are so kinky, first a prison, now a graveyard?” Not that Dean was grinning wider, _not at all_. He arched his hips, his growing boner, against Sam’s leg as his hands slid under the front of his brother's shirt, looking up into the taller man’s eyes mischievously, “ **Do it**.”

Sam raised his brows in excitement, a slow smile starting to form on his lips as his hands went straight to Dean's pants to undo the button. The younger Winchester moved in more and kissed the older man, chuckling a little as he slid the zipper to his brother's jeans down.

He grabbed Dean by the hips and turned him around, pulling the pants and boxer-briefs down over his thighs and knees - exposing his brother and those milky white bowlegs of his.

Sam pressed his body against Dean's backside and brought his finger's up to the older man's plump lips, "Get 'em wet for me."

Dean opened his mouth and took them in, closing his eyes as his tongue swirled around them, flicking the tips teasingly before he pulled back, the digits now dripping with saliva. His body quivered eagerly, already half fucking naked and exposed as he reached down, fisting his cock and moaning, “ _Fuck_.”

Sam took his fingers and slid them between the crease of Dean's ass as he kissed below his brother's shoulder blades, lips pressed to the cotton as he circled the pad of his middle finger around the warm, puckered entrance before sliding it in - no rush or extreme force behind it, he kept it careful and smooth so it didn't hurt.

After a few minutes the tight ring of muscle seemed to loosen a bit so Sam slid a second finger in, pumping them in and out slowly as he worked Dean open.

“Fuck, _fuck_ , _**fuck**_ ,” Dean choked on air, leaning over the taller, thicker headstone as his back arched. He licked his lips as his body rocked back onto Sam’s fingers.

It was an awkward sort of sensation, but not to his distaste. He actually found himself wanting it, wanting more, needing something thicker than just his brother’s fingers, “Come on, man, let’s do this already, just stuff the goddamn thing in.” And now he understood why cocksluts were cocksluts, _fuck_.

Sam pulled his fingers back nervously, "Uh, are you sure?"

"I'm good, dude, just do it," Dean said, turning back for a moment and helping his brother to unbuckle his own jeans.

"Okay," The younger Winchester said tentatively, pulling his length out of his boxers and spitting into his hand, then applying the generous amount of saliva to his cock, barely teasing the head of it before lining himself up with his brother's heat.

With one hand flat against the small of Dean's back, Sam started pushing in, the grip of the muscle causing him to groan as he continued to press himself in to the hilt.

Dean let out a tight, heated breath as he groaned, “Sam,” He kept his body relaxed, ignored the slow burn of Sam pressing into him as he continued the tantalizing jerks of his cock, looking out across the headstones in the graveyard, the darkness glowing from the fire by them and he dropped his forehead against the headstone he was bent over, “Go on, go, move, I’m good. Sonovabitch.”

Sam kept silent for the most part, aside from the groans and heavy breaths he let out due to the death grip around his cock, but he started to move - slow, calculated thrusts as he grabbed at Dean's hips.

The younger Winchester let his head roll back so he could look up at the sky and think of something other than the heat of his brother wrapped around him, it was either think of something else or pretty much come on the spot and he **wasn't** a damn teenager, "Fuck, you're tight."

“You’re not fuckin’ kiddin’,” Dean agreed, voice rough as he grabbed the top of the headstone in his fist and rocked back during one of his brother’s thrusts forward.

Though Sam was somewhat silent, huffs and gasps, there were all kinds of sounds spilling out of Dean, none he’d probably acknowledge, but **seriously** , he couldn’t help it. He normally **was** vocal, but with this - this different, more intense feeling - the younger Winchester fucking burying himself inside of Dean, he was losing it.

"Shit," Sam all but hissed, the noises spilling out of his brother's mouth was driving him insane in probably the best way possible. He let his hand glide up under the back of Dean's shirt, then raked his nails down the soft skin as he slammed himself into the older Winchester mercilessly.

Dean let out a choked sob, “ _Fuck_ , _Sammy,_ ” He breathed, feeling his left boot slip a little in the dirt as Sam hammered into him and- _fucking god_ , Dean didn’t know what sex was. This, this thing that felt like it was rocking through his core, ripping up his spine and reaching down his legs to twist at his ankles, this was actually sex or something, “You’re gonna kill me f’you even dare to slow down for a second - I swear, I’ll murder you, Sam,” He managed out between thrusts.

Sam smiled from ear to ear as he panted and continued to fuck into Dean, his hands gripping his brother's hips so tight he'd probably end up leaving marks - he almost wanted to, just so Dean could see them later and be reminded of who fucked him stupid.

The younger Winchester leaned forward and bit down on Dean's shoulder, though he was doubtful that it'd hurt due to the layered shirts. He was close, he could feel the dull warmth every time he slammed into Dean.

"I'm close," Sam breathed out over the sound of their skin smacking, " **Fuck** , please tell me you're touching yourself."

“Ah, yeah, yeah I’m fuckin’ close,” Dean shuddered, hand still running a drawling pump over his length, thumbing the tip as he did so.

He could feel the harsh bite of his brother’s fingers, leaving bruises on his skin, it took less to cause him to color, and he moaned at just the thought of looking at them later, remembering this.

He lifted up slightly more, pushing back and he was so fucking loud, almost deafening to himself, sounds and curses spilling out, painful whimpers and hisses between his teeth - bucking into his hand as he came, groaning as he felt the splatter of come on the grass below his boots.

Sam moaned as he felt Dean's inner walls clamping down on him, practically milking his own orgasm out of him as he pressed his forehead to Dean's back. His movements stilled after he came and he wrapped his arms around his brother's waist, under his shirt so he could feel the skin.

"Anyone ever tell you how noisy you are?" Sam grinned and kissed the nape of his brother's neck, "I **really** fucking like it, though."

Dean laughed and moaned as he arched back into Sam’s mouth, “I’ve been told that a few times, actually. What can I say? I like sex.”

He licked his dry lips, body shaking as his arm covered Sam’s, “I’ve gotta say, if we weren’t fuckin’ dirty in prison, we’re filthy now, for sure. This is probably the kinkiest thing I’ve done to date.”

"I **know** it's the kinkiest thing I've done," Sam murmured against the back of Dean's neck as his hands explored the soft skin of his brother's abdomen, "I think we both need a scolding shower in the worst way." The younger Winchester reached one of his hands up and tilted Dean's chin back to him so that he could steal a chaste kiss before pulling out.

“Mm, that sounds promisin’,” Dean said as he turned around, bending down to pull his pants back up and pressing a careful, heated kiss to Sam’s right hip bone before straightening up.

Sam all but hissed from the unexpected contact before pulling his pants up as well, eyes locked on Dean's as he smirked and fixed his zipper, "Perv. Already ready for round two?"

“I’m **always** ready for round two,” Dean grinned and raised his brows suggestively before turning and pulling his shovel out of the ground by the grave.

Sam chuckled and shook his head as he picked up the accelerant and salt, gesturing to the Impala, "We should go, skip a few towns and find a new hotel just to get Henriksen off our asses. Then we'll look into round two, sound good?"

“Mm yeah,” Dean laughed as he set off back to the car, “Now that I think about it, it would’a been hilarious if he’d caught us in the act, can you imagine? In the middle of a fuckin’ graveyard, an’ we’re too busy fuckin’ each other to make a clean escape.”

"I'd say if he caught us like that he'd probably say ' _Hell no_ ' and just leave us to it, don't imagine that's something he'd wanna try to break up," Sam grimaced when he imagined the look on Henriksen's face.

Dean opened the trunk of the Impala and stuffed the shovel in the back, pulling his keys from his pocket as he moved to the driver’s side door, “Yeah I can’t imagine approachin’ two brothers, thought to be serial killers or some shit, havin’ sex next to a recently reopened grave, corpse burnin’ away - all the sensual low light along the headstones. Sammy, you’re so romantic.”

Sam tossed his things in the trunk and shut it, grinning at Dean so wide it was starting to hurt his face. He moved to his side of the car, keeping eye contact with his brother as he rested his arms on the top of the Impala, "What can I say? I try."


End file.
